


for sarah

by lizzieisbabie



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24309292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzieisbabie/pseuds/lizzieisbabie
Summary: i wrote this as a bedtime story for sarah because she couldn’t sleep uwu
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	for sarah

**Author's Note:**

> don’t judge or take this seriously i beg

once upon a time, in a small town, lived people living small lives enjoying little things.  
the main character of our story is sage, sage is how old you want her to be, how tall you want her to be, how smart you want her to be, how funny you want her to be, sage is however you want her to be, whoever you want her to be.

sage lives in a charming cottage, wrapped in ivy and glazed with thick snow. sage is standing outside of her charming cottage, wrapped in ivy and painted with thick snow, hesitating to open the oak door to greet her just as charming father. 

what her father doesn’t know (for now) is that sage is gay. sage’s father is the only thing she’s ever known and she loves him more than this crisp winter air in her lungs. the thought that she could lose the person closest to her is the scariest of notions. 

filled with both anxiety and wonder, the girl has no idea how her dearest dad would react. sage sniffles and her red nose raises her quaint glasses, of which she needs to clean. her toes curl in her wellies as she waits to find the courage to enter her abode. grasping the door handle and exhaling deeply, she twists and pushes. the door creeks open and a gust of wind races around the room just before the door slams behind her. 

sage is tired after a long day of work and no play, her feet lead her to the fireplace where she sits down, cross legged, to warm her hands and pet her beloved pooch, sammy. sammy is sage’s best friend and there is no better feeling than when her and her father walk him along the beach on rainy days. 

sammy jumps up to sage with enthusiasm as he licks her cheek. the girl stands and turns around to her father before her, two cups of tomato soup in hand. the father and daughter grin in unison. sage and her father rowan had matching personalised mugs, painted on his was a rowan tree and on her’s a sage plant. creative, i know.

sitting down on their worn out sofa, sage holds her breath.

“dad.”

“daughter.”

“i have something important to tell you,”

“how important?”

...

“quite, i suppose,”

“well then, you’d best tell me hadn’t you,”  
the man chuckles 

“don’t laugh,” she closes her eyes tightly before continuing, “it’s serious.”

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

the knot in sages stomach tightens by the second, her vision is fuzzy.

“dad, i’m...”

slowly, he turns his whole body in the direction of his clearly shaken child

“slow down, princess, take your time,”

“gay.”

any noise that once inhabited the room had been sucked out, as if by vacuum cleaner.

the only sound to be heard was the harsh pounding of sage’s heart.

“i’m gay.”

still nothing

“please, say something,”

“i’ve forgotten the basil”

he stands up and carefully grasps sage’s steaming mug

“excuse me?”

“i forgot the basil.”

“i don’t want any basil, you don’t even like tomato and basil”

“i’m going to get the basil”

he heads for the kitchen leaving his child disheartened. sage’s stomach sinks further than she had thought possible. tears glazed her hot eyes. she hid her emotion behind her fogged up glasses, blinking away her tears as sammy rested his head in her lap.

footsteps approached and sage lowered her head, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“here you go,”

scrunching her nose, cautiously, she looked up and took hold of her now lukewarm soup.

instead of next to her like before, her father sat across from her in her late mother’s arm chair.

before sage could take a sip of her soup, she felt something bounce against her top lip.

analysing her soup, she could see a heart shaped piece of bread.

with surprise, sage smiled at her hazel eyes met her father’s green orbs.

once again, they smiled in unison and he turned on their box television. this time, sage successfully sipped her soup and the warmth flooded her body. staring at the tv, soup in hand and dog in lap, despite her father not using words, sage had never felt more loved and accepted.

slurping his barely warm soup, the man finally spoke,

“shit, forgot your basil.”


End file.
